Dragon Ball/Z/GT Fan Fiction ❯ Hand Picked ❯ Rejection or Reassignment? ( Chapter 4 )

Hand picked

 

Disclaimer: I don't' own Raditz, Turles or Dragon Ball Z. Akira Toriyama created it, and it is licensed and owned by Toei Animation Co. Shuisha Bird studios and Shonen Jump. I'm only borrowing them for the use of this fanfiction which means no harm to the owners. I don't make money from this.

 

Turles has to reassign Raditz to a new position but will Raditz be up to snuff or not? What tests of loyalty will he pass? Yaoi, Shonen-ai. TurlesXRaditz.

A/N: I promised Katie I'd write more of this, so here goes! I was inspired to write a Turles/Raditz pairing because it's not one that normally comes to mind. In this Raditz and Turles are NOT related by blood despite the fact that Turles resembles Goku and Bardock. So it's not an incest fic.

 

For a time Raditz contented himself with the soft strokes of Turles tongue gliding over his soft palate. It took a force of extreme will not to lift his hands from their previous position. The low purring echoing in Raditz throat slowly vibrated the wine laden tongue Turles thrust inside. Breaking the kiss, Turles brushed a lock of his hair aside, tucking it behind Raditz ear.

 

His inner legs reveled in the solid feel of the youth's muscular legs. Although Raditz was young, his muscular body was quite pleasant, and he could tell in a year or so time the bulk the young Saiyan would put on would be quite impressive.

 

Tanned skin contrasted against paler shades. Slowly Turles ran his hands up and down Raditz thighs, rubbing the muscle there, smoothing his finger over the red metal thigh bracelet on his left leg. Muscles twitched, and Raditz gritted his teeth to suppress the next moan. Now balanced on Raditz knees, Turles lightly laughed. Gauntlet hands crossed, rubbing up and down his own sides to feel the secret catches that held on his blue armored breastplate. Dark eyes watched his every move, as Turles tugged up the stretchable armor and heaved it up off his torso. With deliberate wiggles of his body he slid himself back along Raditz thighs till he straddled him again. The loud thump of the breastplate hitting the floor startled Raditz under him, causing Turles to snicker.

 

"Something unnerving you?" he half purred.

 

"No… sir," Raditz licked his lips.

 

"I think there's something wrong with your uniform," he whispered.

 

"Sir?"

 

"Yes. There is. For this mission you're not properly attired. No, I think it's time for a change," he whispered, scooting back on Raditz thighs. Teasingly he slid his hands up and down the bronzed chest, slightly glistening with the sweat that had built up under it. To Raditz shock he realized he was gaping with open jaw at the well arrayed six pack gliding down into the black briefs beneath his commander's armor. Only a small distance separated them, and he felt cold at the Commander's retreat.

 

One arm twitched, but Turles clicked his tongue. "Ha ah, no touching, my orders, remember?"

 

"Sorry sir," Raditz shook his head. Groaning again he felt the callused fingers of the commander creeping along the bottom edge of his armor. Deliberately slowly Turles unsnapped the segmented straps holding the black breastplate in place, then yanked it up. Raditz yelped as it caught on his chin. He suppressed another cry, remaining still as he could when Turles finally broke the straps and seized the neck of Raditz armor. Teeth clenching Raditz felt his fingers slip between the armor and skin, then give a sharp tug. The resounding crack jolted him even more as Turles rent his breastplate into pieces falling to the floor like shards of glass.

 

"S… sir…" hissed Raditz, his chest rising and falling. More sweat covered the youth's chest, pale, but glistening with appreciable muscle.

 

"Why Private, your true physique is hidden. You'd benefit from a bit of workout, you know. But not bad. You'll fill out nicely in time," Turles half breathed, then exhaled sharply. The jet of hot air became cold, against the hot burning sweat blistering on the Private's pectorals. Hands covered in blue bracers came up and lightly rubbed down the tight planes of Raditz chest, then slid to the side where two sensitive nipples studded up, bronze against pale cream. A light brush of the forefingers generated another yelp from Raditz, causing him to jerk his head to the side and his hips to raise off the chair. Turles laughed as he bucked up and tightened his own thighs around Raditz outer legs.

 

"Surprisingly strong you are. I suppose that doesn't count as touching," Turles mused, stroking his chin. Still he slid his other hand over the ridged lower abdominal muscles puckering up. As they curved over the tightly wound tail, Raditz yelped. A wicked smirk twisted one corner of Turles mouth up. He dipped his fingers into the spandex shorts of Raditz, stopping as they teased at his bellybutton. Something like a whimper escaped Raditz lips, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

 

"Look at me, Private! Now!" Turles barked, startling the poor Private yet again. Grabbing Raditz chin hard he jerked the youth's head upward while leaning down.

 

"Yes sir!" Raditz responded, his eyes meeting those burning ones gleaming in that tanned face.

 

"that's MUCH better. I want to see your reaction. You can only look, but not touch. You can't escape, Private."

 

"I have no wish to escape, sir," Raditz panted, his lids half closed. Again Turles left hand danced down his chest, rubbing over the hard bulge prominently tenting the spandex. Against his leg Raditz felt the twitching and saw the evidence of the Commander's excitement also mounting. His eyes widened again, trying to judge the dimensions of the Commander's Saiyanhood swelling to attention.

 

"Very good. Verrry good," Turles murmured, before sliding his hand into the forest of Raditz spiky mane and yanking it up towards his face. Against their lips collided, mouths searching one another's. Turles chuckled at Raditz sudden attempt to dominate the kiss by slipping his lips out from under the Commanders.

 

"Uh," Raditz grunted, eyes flickering up to those of Turles. Dark lashes glided open, revealing the Commander's interested gaze. Muscles ached in Raditz hands, his fingers twisting the metal of the chair in his attempt to not reach up and caress the body rubbing with its weight into his throbbing groin.

 

"Something to say, Private?" asked Turles with a deep chortle.

 

"I… I'm thirsty," Raditz confessed.

 

"Are you? What for?" the Commander panted. Around his waist his tail slowly unlatched, then curled back and forth. Raditz realized his own tail had tightly squeezed around his own waist so tightly he could hardly breathe. Eyes glanced over Turles shoulder to see the flickering brown appendage curling around the goblet half filled with wine. Deftly it lifted the drinking vessel, then swung it around without spilling a drop to Turles right hand.

 

Turles pink tongue darted out, gliding along his shapely lips. Hefting the goblet he slowly brought it to his mouth, and sipped. All the while the left continued to travel up over the fur of Raditz tail, then tickle along the crease between his own six pack and that groove separating his pectorals. So light was the caresses it drove him to near insanity. So dry his tongue felt it was like a lump of sand in his mouth.

 

Raditz was hypnotized by the bobbing up and down of his prominent Adam's apple between two tendons in the thick neck. How he longed to reach outs his tongue and lick along the collarbone and taste the sweat glistening there. Imagine his surprise when Turles yanked his head back with a fistful of hair, and took yet another sip of wine. This time he did not swallow, but brought his mouth down for yet another kiss. Raditz mouth opened eagerly, then felt something hot and sweet gurgle past his lips. Half choking he struggled to swallow the mouthful of wine Turles transferred to him. More sips of wine crossed Turles lips, only to reach the parched Private's throat with a series of deep lip caresses leaving him giddy and half drunk.

 

Thrills prickled the Goosebumps to life up and down his bare skin. Sharing food and drink was an intimate act reserved only for parents of newborn whelps, and lovers. He couldn't believe how tender the gestures were from the battle hardened commander sitting atop his lap so triumphantly. Out of the corner of his eye Turles saw the white knuckles protruding from Raditz's gauntlets, spasming and squeezing metal like taffy. He was suitably impressed by the degree of self-control Raditz was displaying not touching him. If it were he in the longhaired youth's place, he would be begging for the privilege to touch.

 

"S… sir… thank you," Raditz panted, his eyes filled with something that tugged oddly at the Commander's sensibilities. Open trust and devotion, which he had not witnessed in any but his own soldiers. Even so, their gaze was sharp with fierce frenzy to live and die. Not so was the gaze of Raditz, in fact it was surprisingly soft and vulnerable.

 

"I have to admit I'm quite… surprised how you've held out this long… how it must torture you to not be able to touch," Turles purred, sliding his tongue along Raditz jaw.

 

"IT… it's killing me," Raditz whispered, voice quaking. "I… please… please let me…."

 

"Not yet. Not yet," Turles soothed. He braced his hands on the forearms of the youth, then grunted as he lifted himself up. Raditz stammered in desperation to feel the weight leaving his lap, feeling the chill of isolation dousing his heat. Part of his sanity reminded him to see how stiffly Turles was walking, as if the bulge in his shorts was as painful as the throbbing one Raditz himself possessed. Missing the gaze of the commander seemed even worse then not being able to return the caresses bestowed upon him. All he could do was content himself with the view of the commander's spine and his tail swishing back and forth. Turles had bent down to grab his armor.

 

"Commander, let me," Raditz blurted out.

 

"You have something to say?"

 

"Let me… pick that up for you," Raditz said, almost losing his nerve. Turles slightly turned, his ass curving tantalizingly under the tight material of his shorts, giving Raditz an eyeful.

 

"Do it," Turles snickered. Raditz released his numb grip, peeling himself out of the Commander's plush chair and straining his aching muscles to move. Very clumsily he rose from the chair, his erection pounding in screaming protest in his spandex that felt two sizes too small. He fell to one knee with a thump, reaching out to grab Turles discarded breastplate and the cape. Standing up straight, Turles kept his back to the Private, simply allowing the youth time to collect his things. He heard the grunts and gasps of someone rising from the floor stiffly, and whirled around to see Raditz half to his feet.

 

"Sir…" Raditz whispered, offering the items to him. Turles arched a black brow at the sight of his cape neatly folded underneath the breastplate that Raditz had balanced across both arms. Pieces of the shattered armor still lay on the floor.

 

"Thank you, Private. That will be all," Turles said, retrieving his items. Raditz choked, swallowing the lump in his throat as he sank to his knee in the traditional salute.

 

"But… sir… don't you…" Raditz croaked, feeling the emptiness pooling in the pit of his gut. All that attention and he was to be discarded and dismissed like a slave? Had he displeased the Commander somehow?

 

Turles slid on his armor again, reaching around to fasten the cape. He felt the hands of the Private suddenly reach out and move over his, in an attempt to do it for him. Yet Raditz froze, his hands brushing against Turles callused fingers. He quaked under the heat of his Commander's accusatory glare.

 

"What do you think you're doing, Private?" Turles inquired. Raditz jerked his hands back, biting his lip. The son of Bardock had stood behind him to reach around and slide the edge of the cape under the epaulettes of the commander's armor. Bare chested and pale Raditz felt the agony of dark eyes staring at him.

 

"You… would have a slave do such a duty. I simply presumed it was respectful to…" Raditz uttered, his voice breaking with a deep tambour to it that it had not possessed before. This earned him another sharp glare from the Commander who whirled around on him. The white cape followed its course, settling around the shoulders of its master like the tension that increased between them. For a moment Raditz did not know if he would be picking himself out of the pavement and being carted off by one of the slaves to the nearest regeneration tank.

 

Eternity blossomed from the span of five minutes. For Raditz it was the longest he had ever waited or held his breath. Would he live or die from the terrible stare Turles stabbed his very soul with. Something like anger flashed brightly with the blue energies crackling around Turles fists. All he could do was sink to one knee, hiding his face by fixing his gaze on the toe of one boot. Blood pumped in Raditz ears, rushing and roaring louder then the thick silence.

 

A hand settled on his shoulder, then slid into the spikes of his hair. His heart stopped, then started again when he heard the Commander's next words, "Well boy, what are you waiting for? Are you going to attend me or not?"

 

Again Raditz breathed, his chest rising and falling. Slowly the fingers reached in to scratch and massage his scalp, belying the hard gaze fixed upon him. The dichotomy confused him, yet he sensed it was a façade for the true intentions. Relief swelled inside his once grief twisted gut, and he was stunned to realize how close he felt to devastation. The very notion that he had displeased Turles pained him as much as being unable to touch him minutes before.

 

"I… thank you, for the privilege to serve. I will do whatever you ask," Raditz said, glancing up at the amused face of Turles smirking down at him. "Just don't… deny me the chance to prove myself…."

 

"Really? Then get ups off the floor and don't grovel. It doesn't become a Saiyan warrior to snivel when he can stand and serve me," Turles ordered, mirth replacing the sternness. He yanked up on the handful of Raditz hair, tugging the Private to his feet.

 

"As you wish," Raditz eagerly barked.

 

"You will accompany me to my quarters. I've got another assignment for you, Private Raditz," Turles nodded. His mind already spun with the possibilities that arose before him.